Мусорщик - Musorshchik [open]

[Ziu]

Time: Evening
Date: Winter of 1941/1942
Weather: The beginnings of an unpleasant blizzard
Place: A small Russian village

Food.

Warm, rich, hearty, nourishing - all words that could describe the meaty aroma wafting from the small, shack-like gathering place. Though run-down, rust-laden and with a roof heavy with snow, the inn on the horizon was as busy as ever. Ziu drooled in anticipation, the scruffy Shepherd hobbling through the snow with speed that hurt every joint. His shoulder now-unusable, his shrapnel-ridden hip stuck with a limp, the dog fell every which-way in an attempt to seek out food. It smelt like lamb was roasting in an oven, and the boiling of vegetables heralded some sort of stew. The dog couldn't help but whine, so anxious was he to be fed.

Coming up to the inn's door, the dog pawed twice, sitting with a wince. Four minutes of nothing was what he got in return. He got back up, circled around, and tried to peer in through a dirty, frosted window - the dog saw nothing but shapes and shadows. The smell of meat was tantalizingly, painfully close, and Ziu whimpered pathetically as he went to the back door. The dog scratched a few more times, whining and wagging his tail as he sat in the snow. He was truly desperate, for his fear of humans had been eclipsed enough by hunger to drive him to seek out their dens.

Another long, loud whine was followed by a pair of spaced barks. Despite the whistling of the wind, and the muffling effect made by the surrounding snow, they were loud to an almost commanding degree. Ziu had used such barks in his youth to get the attention of his servants, who had waited on the dogs hand and foot at the manor that raised Ziu. They would not have stood to have seen the Shepherd in such condition!

[Laya Eteric]

Laya Iosifovna Eteric trudged through the snow, taking a moment to adjusting her coat, as the breeze shifted. Damn cold, getting colder, and the wind made it worse. Her Company was currently out of combat to rest and gather themselves, and they'd all been allowed to go to the village to do just that. Laya herself was one of the last troops to leave, as she had been pulling maintenance on her T-34 tank, finally replacing its failed transmission. She was glad to have finished the work, as the a blizzard would soon be rolling in, and no one would want to do repair in that state. “Gah!” she groaned as wind blew stinging snowflakes into her eyes. “Ugh, gotta hurry...” she muttered while wiping her face, and continued on.

As she approached the inn, Laya started to smell the scent of food, blown to her by the wind. She grinned slightly and put a hand on her gut for a moment. Nearly there, she thought. It probably didn't have the best of beds, but as a soldier in wartime—or hell, anyone near the front lines—she was used to uncomfortable places to sleep. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud bark, and then, a few moments later, a second one. She jumped at the first one, but realized that it was just a dog by the second. Probably wants inside the warm building too...I know I do!

A few minutes later, Laya approached the door, and noticed the canine in question. It took her a moment to realize the condition he was in: bad. Limping on two limbs... “Damn, what happened to you?” she said with slight surprise. She didn't quite reach for him, not knowing how he'd react. “You alright? I don't know how to help you...you look terrible...maybe someone around here can...” She blushed slightly as her stomach growled suddenly. “...Ya want something to eat? I can get some food for you if that helps...”

[Ziu]

A few minutes later, Laya approached the door, and noticed the canine in question. It took her a moment to realize the condition he was in: bad. Limping on two limbs... “Damn, what happened to you?” she said with slight surprise. She didn't quite reach for him, not knowing how he'd react.

In an instant, Ziu turned around and snapped at Laya, hobbling backwards into the snow. He weakly bared his teeth, letting out something between a growl and a whine. He was caught somewhere between surprise and fear, though the latter in his eyes went as deep as a cañon. He recognized, by the sound of the woman's language alone, that she was Russian. Russian-humans had female soldiers as well as male.

“You alright? I don't know how to help you...you look terrible...maybe someone around here can...” She blushed slightly as her stomach growled suddenly. “...Ya want something to eat? I can get some food for you if that helps...”

The dog barked, the croaking sound a pained mix of emotions. He roughly understood the Russian word for "food", but he was unsure - he could never be certain. After all the abuse and neglect he had gone through, the trauma taking him many times to his snapping point, Ziu was a hard one for trusting. He backed up more, a plea rising in his voice that lowered into a savage growl. Laya was to stay back, but he still wanted to be fed, somehow.... And it was getting cold outside....

[Laya Eteric]

“Shit!” Laya yelled, jumping back as the injured dog snapped at her. She hadn't even fully reached for him, but he was still wary of her. He looked incredibly frightened, and why wouldn't he be, considering all his injuries? He had scars all over him, perhaps a grenade went off near him? Laya was unsure how long he'd live with wounds like that. She sighed, looking to the door, and then back to the unfortunate dog. “Alright then...I'll see if they'll let you come inside...even if they don't though, I'll still bring you some sort of food. Just don't run off now...” She smiled a bit, opened the door, and headed inside.

It was warm, dimly lit, and crowded inside the inn, just as Laya expected. Okay, the crowding may not have been the best thing, one could hardly move without bumping into someone, and that may not have been the best situation for an injured, terrified, and dangerous dog. Laya finally found the man running the inn. She payed her fair to get food, including an extra dish for the dog. “One last thing, there's an injured dog outside...think we can let him in before he freezes?”

Laya paused a bit as cold air blasted her, then continued through the door. She'd already finished her own meal, and was now carrying a good sized bowl of meat. Shivering for a moment, she spotted the dog, still near the building, and gave a whistle. "Hey! Food!" she called to him, walking over to a different door on the inn, to a room that was far less crowded. “You want it? Come inside if you want...” she called, standing in the doorway, waiting.

[Deleted]

Anton shook his head. "It's too late for that," he replied to the red-faced Sergeant standing before him. "I want everyone inside. Get vehicles parked and covered," he ordered, holding up a hand to the Sergeant's protests. If we don't get sleep, we'll be dead before the Germans can kill us, so tonight we rest." He looked around the small village, pointing at the nearest building. "I'll be at inn. You'll be following orders, Da?" The red-faced Sergeant, whose name he had not yet learned, nodded and saluted with great vigor. Anton watched the Sergeant climb back into the truck from which they had both emerged moments before, riding away to speed his orders to the men. Anton pushed his small bundle of brown paper under his arm and looked around.

What a mess. What had been an understrength Motor-Rifle Company before the war had been decimated to a ragged platoon riding in a handful of vehicles. In the long retreat from the west, many of their trucks had borken down or ran out of petrol. The stranded men were forced to walk, hoping they were picked up by friendly forces all the while. Most were never seen again. Anton had seen some soldiers riding comandeered farm carts, their rifles long before traded for food and shelter. Shelter... he reminded himself. He reached into his tattered coat for his flask, fumbling over the cap with stiff fingers. Taking a long drink, he shuddered at the taste, some peasant's concoction he had picked up the day before. It did the trick though, and he was warmed for his approach to the inn.

He followed a soldier to a door where she paused, calling for a dog. Mmm. Sharing room with greasy tanker and her dog... Not my idea of good night. "You might want to keep close eye on your dog. Many people would welcome easy meal in these hard times," he spoke to the woman, then looking at the dog. "...if easy meal is right term. You look like you still have fight, eh dog?" he spoke to the creature, tilting his head. "Like Soviet Union at moment. Not muh to look at, but jaws still have strength." The dog wasn't much to look at. Wounded or sick or both, it appeared to be having a rough time. He turned to the woman and offered his hand solemnly. "Mladshiy Leytenant Trubachev, Green Company, 28th Motor-Rifle Regiment." He pointed toward the door. "And very cold. Can we go inside? I have some rabbits here I was going to get cooked," he patted the brown paper bundle at his side.

[Ziu]

The two Russians conversed, and Ziu warily hung back in the snowstorm. A trail of saliva dribbled down from his lip, a low rumble working its way through his hollow, twisting gut. The whine he made could barely be heard, the winds howling around him like a chorus of unseen wolves. The scent of meat was carried by the gale, and it only served to bring forth another train of drool.

He took one step, then another. One step, then another, and then another before stumbling. He froze, standing as still as ice over a lake. With a reaching of his neck, the dog's tongue ran over his cold, thick jaws, plumes of steam erupting from his nose and mouth. The quivering of his maw was followed by another whine, and then another whine, and another step and a wag of the tail. So slowly, ever so slowly, would he move.

Until he smelt the male human's bag of rabbit-flesh. Eyes going wide, the starving animal gave the bag a look that a man might give to a gorgeous woman. Tripping over his own paws, the dog bolted, a flash of brown and black across the lit portion of the snow. With a snap and a growl, Ziu would attempt to yank the rabbits away, falling onto his back before rolling - painfully - to all fours. Darting to what he felt was a safe distance away, he circled around the inn, diving into a drift as he tore into the rabbits. Paper bag pieces, bloodstained and stinking of the corpses, were scattered everywhere as the dog tore the package apart.

That is, if he actually managed to snatch them away. He would still run away if he had not stolen the bag, but in that case, he would stop in place and stare at nothing. Gradually, he would turn back around to the way he came, sheepishly walking back to where the pair of humans had been.

[Laya Eteric]

The dog didn't seem willing to come to her quite yet. Laya understood, and was about to head back inside, when she heard the voice of another soldier near her, mentioning watching the dog to prevent it becoming a meal himself, before talking to him that he likely still had some fight left in him despite his ragged and injured appearance, “like the Soviet Union.” Laya noticed he was also an officer, perhaps a Lieutenant, she thought, but the snow obscured his insignia so she couldn't quite tell. No matter, he confirmed such, introducing himself as Junior Lieutenant Trubachev. He was even from the same Regiment as her, though not company.

“Ahh, hello Tovarishch Leitenant. And I'm Mladshii Serzhant Laya Eteric, Red Company of the 28th. Nice to meet you...” She turned a bit, just barely hearing the dog's whimper, and saw it stumble forth a bit. Trubachev wanted inside though. “Hm? Oh, yes, of course, go on ahead. I'm just trying to see if the dog wants inside, don't want him to freeze, but he seems afraid of people. No idea whose he is.” She stepped aside, allowing the officer to go inside. “He'll probably die in the state he is, but I want to at least get him fed and warm first.”

The poor creature looked as miserable as ever. In fact, he looked ready to jump and snatch some sort of food, something Laya would fully understand if she were in his position. She reached out a bit with the bowl of meat, slowly backing her way into the inn. She gave the bowl a shake, her other hand on the door. “Food, you want it? You want inside?” She waved the bowl once more. “C'mon, come get it, before it gets cold.” She reached as if to set the bowl on the ground, in case he preferred to stay outside, and half closed the door.

[Deleted]

The woman introduced herself as Laya Etericc, a Mladshiy Serzhant in Red Company. She kept glancing at the dog, and explained her intentions of getting him warmed and fed. "Ah. I assumed it was yours. He seems in bad shape," Anton remarked bluntly, eyeing the creature. He let out a low whine, the focused his attention on Anton's package. "Oh no, no," Anton laughed, raising the rabbits abive his head as the dog moved to grab them. He held out a commanding finger and did his best impression of a staff officer. "No! You can not have! Is no good for you!" He looked at the woman with the bowl of meat and hurried to divert the dog's attention to it.

Look! Nice tank lady brings food for you. See?" It was to no effect, and the dog retreated a distance away, hungry eyes glued on Anton's rabbits. He tried a different tactic. "You can have one, but you must learn manners. Rabbit is for taste!" He shrugged, exhasperated. "Come inside, eat nice lady's food, the you can have rabbit," he spoke as he backed into the inn, followed by Laya. He took a seat a few meters from the door as the Serzhant set the bowl down. Anton would watch to see if the dog took the meat, then would throw him a rabbit. He waved for the tired-looking innkeeper, and negotiated the terms of his meal. They talked back and forth for a few moments, Anton finally handing over the larger rabbit; to be cooked shortly, and his flask; for theinnkeeper's efforts.

He spoke to Laya next. "Innkeeper is going to bring rabbit and black bread for dinner. Will you eat with me?" He glanced at the half-opened door and smiled, a facial expression little used of late. "Rabbit here is for dog. If we coax him in, you can give it to him. I'll ask the innkeeper for some water, too. He's probably thirsty." He motioned at his rickety table, which appeared to be old fence posts nailed to a standing barrel. Anton faced the dooor and wathed for any sign of the dog.

He was cheeky to grab at the rabbits. Obviously starved, he would have to get something in his stomach before any attempt to check his wounds could be made. The meat in the bowl should arouse the dog's appetite enough for him to venture inside for th rabbit. While he ate the rabbit, he would be warm up and unknowingly make himself loathe to return to the blizzard. If he remained afterward, it was a simple matter of relaxing him enough to check the extent of his injuries.